


Medusa

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [341]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Canon Compliant, Gen, Post-Series, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8082436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: "Oh, now you become the timid mouse?  What happened to the fierce lioness that's been practically in my back pocket for the last month?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 18 September 2016  
> Word Count: 1196  
> Prompt: "Medusa" by Sylvia Plath  
> Summary: "Oh, now you become the timid mouse? What happened to the fierce lioness that's been practically in my back pocket for the last month?"  
> Spoilers: Post-series, taking place a couple of hours after the events of episode 01x10 "Ave Satani." Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Series: Ariel  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazzara, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: For all the times that I've tried to do canon compliance in various of my fics in this project, I think I've tried the hardest to be canon compliant and guess what Glen might have done in this instance if the show had continued. I put aside as many of my headcanons as possible and focused on the characters and situations we saw on the screen to create this fic. I think, I _hope_ , I succeeded in doing that here. And I have a feeling that I'll be continuing in this vein again down the line.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

"Ghastly Vatican.  
I am sick to death of hot salt.  
Green as eunuchs, your wishes  
Hiss at my sins."  
\-- Sylvia Plath, "Medusa"

 

"He's asking for you."

The soldier looks unflappable, but she can see past the mask, takes note that far too much shows of the whites of his eyes. After hearing from John about the earlier incident when all of the guards had been involved in a mass shooting, she's surprised that any of the men here are steady. Then again, Captain Dislo wouldn't allow anyone but the best within his security ranks.

She motions with a hand for him to lead the way, realizing belatedly that she still carries the two Megiddo daggers. He doesn't seem to be phased by that and begins to walk off toward the far end of the cemetery. Shifting both daggers into her left hand, she runs her right hand through her hair and is startled to feel the dampness of dew despite the warmth of the night. Her eyes scan the throngs of people still camped around the area; none of the faithful have chosen to leave the site of the Beast's reawakening into his birthright. So many people here, and she knows that this isn't even a fraction of those within the organization and beyond.

The soldier clears his throat to announce his presence to another member of the security force, then they begin to speak in low voices. She can't make out any of the words, but she keenly feels the hard, appraising scrutiny of the new man on her. She meets his gaze openly, not quite challenging him, but not backing down either. Dislo's men all know who she is. The only reason they would raise their guns to her now is if Damien himself gave the order. She can't deny that the thought has run through her mind more than once since he separated himself and Simone from everyone else.

Finally the new guard nods and motions to the daggers in her hands with his rifle. "He wishes to see you now, but you'll need to leave those behind."

"I'll do no such thing." The words are out of her mouth before the thought fully forms in her mind, and her grip tightens on both hilts.

"Those are his--"

"Then he can come and tell me to my face."

The man growls softly at being challenged, then speaks into his radio. "Alpha Seven, this is Alpha Ten. She's refusing to give up her weapons. Request further instruction. Over."

Within a moment, the response comes with a bit of static. "He says she can keep them. Escort her back immediately. Over."

"Understood," the guard replies, frowning at being overridden. "Follow me."

She waits until he turns around to let the smirk tug at her lips, but doesn't loosen her grip on the daggers as she follows him. She notes that the first guard takes this one's place, pleased to see how seamlessly the security force continues to do its collective job. And then she remembers whom she'll be seeing in just a little bit. He'd barely acknowledged her after his transformation, something that's been eating at her over the last couple of hours. They pass a couple more guards, and she makes note of just how many are actually in the area.

"Sir, Ms. Rutledge is here as you requested."

"Thank you. Let her through."

That voice brings her back to the present again, and her heart begins to beat faster as the guard steps aside and she can lay eyes on the Antichrist again. He's leaning against a large monument to someone who probably doesn't matter in the long run, blood still painted across half of his face. Simone stretches out next to him, her head in his lap, apparently asleep as he rests a possessive hand over the right side of her head. She recognizes it as the protective gesture that it is. She wants to speak, but the words stick in her throat as her eyes travel over him, drinking in the sight of everything she's dedicated herself to.

"You're awfully quiet, Ann," he finally says, a lazy smirk on his lips. "Seems to me that this is a rather momentous occasion. You _always_ have something to say to me."

Without thought, she drops to one knee before him, head bowed in reverence, and licks suddenly dry lips. "I-- I serve at your will."

He laughs then, a loud and mocking sound. "Oh, now you become the timid mouse? What happened to the fierce lioness that's been practically in my back pocket for the last month?"

As he speaks, she notices movement in her peripheral vision. The hellhounds melt out of the shadows to settle in a line, separating her from Damien and Simone. They don't appear to be ready to kill her, but she knows that it would only take a word, a _thought_ from Damien for them to turn on her like they did to John.

"Forgive me, Damien," she says, taking a bold chance to meet his heavy gaze. "It's not every day that one can stand in the presence of everything they believe in."

"Bullshit," he replies with another laugh. "You've been in my presence how often lately? And peripherally for most of my life? What's so different now?"

At this, she narrows her eyes slightly. "You've accepted your destiny, that's what's so different now. You aren't _just_ Damien Thorn anymore. You are the Beast, the Deliverer, the Antichrist, the Light-Bringer. You are what I have been waiting for practically my entire life."

He frowns at that, breaking their mutual gaze. He studies Simone's profile for a long moment as she continues to sleep, and his fingers move constantly in her hair. "Tell me what you know about this Scisco Dei that Sister Greta was part of."

She blinks at the request, but answers him nonetheless. "Officially, it's an office within the Vatican that investigates miracles and demonic possessions. Unofficially, or at least in the nun's case, it looks into signs of the End Times, the Apocalypse."

"So they know she was here."

"It would be highly unorthodox for her to strike out like this on her own, but I suppose it's possible that they're clueless about her motives. Why do you ask?"

He gestures at the daggers still clutched tightly in her hands. "You have two of them. Where are the other five?"

"We know the Vatican has four, which means there's still one missing somewhere. No one has any ideas where to find it."

"What are the chances they're coming to hunt me down?"

She shrugs helplessly and shakes her head, hating the fact that this is information she doesn't actually have. "I don't honestly know. It really depends on whether or not the nun was acting on orders or went rogue. If it's the latter, you may be safe. If it's the former…" She finds herself unable to finish that thought.

"Then I guess I need to learn what kind of powers I have now, don't I? I didn't save Simone's life just to have it snuffed out with mine by the Pope's personal assassins."


End file.
